


Close your tired eyes (I'll meet you there)

by beggarscantbchoosers



Category: Da Vinci's Demons
Genre: Anyway uh, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, Multi, Non-Sexual Intimacy, References to Torture, Swearing, as opposed to anything serious, boys taking care of each other, canon torture that is, i.e. exactly what makes me weak, overprotective Zo, references to death, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2018-03-26 16:50:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3857926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beggarscantbchoosers/pseuds/beggarscantbchoosers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What the hell’ve you done to him now?” Zo asked, taking in Nico’s morose, battered form. He reached out to pull the boy away from his frowning maestro, but by sheer misfortune the hand he grasped to do so was the one wounded by Riario’s contraption, and Nico let out a little cry of pain before he could stop himself.</p><p>Nico needed some comforting, after Riario and the Widow's Tear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Close your tired eyes (I'll meet you there)

**Author's Note:**

> I want to cry every time I see Nico get hurt so clearly the only result is to write H/C fic with shared baths and non-sexual sleeping together???
> 
>  _Wander down the street_  
>  _And I would be the pavement beneath your feet_  
>  \- Owl City, I'll Meet You There

Leo dragged Nico down the darkened passage to the alley behind the inn where Vanessa lived and worked. His apprentice whimpered slightly, clutching his still bleeding hand to his chest, and Leo glanced back, concern furrowing his brow and turning his mouth downwards.

“C’mon, let’s find Zo.” He muttered, not entirely practiced at giving comfort. “He’ll sort your hand out; god knows he’s patched me up enough times.” He flashed Nico a grin, the tease meant to elicit some sort of cheer, and was rewarded with a weak smile in return. Thus reassured, Leo opened the inn’s back door and they both slipped into the kitchen, Leo flashing a wink at the innkeeper’s indulgent wife, who merely rolled her eyes and clucked a motherly tongue at the sight of Nico, still covered in ash, dust, and the blood of the Vatican’s men. Vanessa waved at them as they passed, faltering when Leo’s only response was a grim smile, and they wound through the crowded room to where Zo was fleecing some unsuspecting traveller of all his money through a game of cards. One look at the two of them, however, and Zo shooed the stranger away, regardless of the fact they’d been in the middle of a game. Probably for the best, since Zo’s unrepentant cheating had caused more than one fight in the past.

“What the hell’ve you done to him now?” Zo asked, taking in Nico’s morose, battered form. He reached out to pull the boy away from his frowning _maestro_ , but by sheer misfortune the hand he grasped to do so was the one wounded by Riario’s contraption, and Nico let out a little cry of pain before he could stop himself. Zo’s eyes went wide, and he snatched his own hand back; his tan face went pale when he saw the dark blood slicked across his fingertips. “Fuck, Nico.” He breathed, concern flaring in his dark eyes. He reached out again, more gently this time, and Nico hesitated for only a moment before he let himself fall into Zo’s warm embrace. Zo’s broad shoulders and strong arms made a protective cage around the younger boy, and when Leo settled on his other side, a firm and reassuring presence with a hand set on the curve of Nico’s spine, the teenager allowed the faint trembling, which had begun shortly after the adrenaline from the explosion had faded, develop into full blown shaking accompanied by quiet, hitching sobs. Nico’s father’s voice echoed in his mind, a reminder that boys his age shouldn’t cry, but Zo merely held him tighter, calling for a worried, hovering Vanessa to bring hot water and bandages, and Leo’s hand – the one, Nico remembered, that not so long ago had been crushed and broken by his own father’s men (and really, wasn’t that far worse than what Nico had suffered, he reasoned?) rubbed slow, soothing circles into his back. Nico attempted to stifle his sobs, and failed utterly. A moment later, he felt Zo pulling away, and clutched desperately at the older man’s shirt, a soft, distressed cry escaping him. Zo hushed him, squeezing him briefly before pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“Just a moment, love, gotta clean that hand.” He murmured, attempting to detach the white knuckled grip of Nico’s uninjured hand from his shirt. “Just for a moment, _avis,_ I swear.” He promised, exchanging increasingly concerned glances with Leo. The _artista_ , worrying his lower lip between his teeth as he usually would chew a brush, extended his own arms and wrapped them firmly around Nico’s waist, drawing the boy into his lap. Leo was smaller than Zo, but Nico, curled childlike as he was, still fitted neatly into his _maestro_ ’s arms. The teenager settled a little as Zo took his hand, still bleeding sluggishly, in between his own, surprisingly gentle for how large they seemed in comparison. Nico held his breath and turned his face to hide in Leo’s shoulder whilst Zo carefully cleaned the blood from the boy’s hand, taking care to remove even the dried flakes caught around the edges of the teenager’s nails, before just as carefully wrapping it with the bandage Vanessa had brought. As a final flourish, he ducked his head and pressed a tender kiss to the bandage, glancing up with his trademark rakish grin to gauge Nico’s reaction. Nico managed a watery smile – weak, but real enough to reassure Zo, who relaxed a little now that the immediate problem seemed to be taken care of. “So, anyone gonna tell me what happened?” He asked, carefully, voice low though the carousing of the inn’s other occupants was loud enough to cover the sounds of their conversation easily. He slid a little closer to the other two on the low bench as he spoke, casually lifting Leo’s legs to drape them over his own, wrapping his arms around the both of them as if trying to shelter them with just the breadth of his body. He hadn’t been so distracted by Nico’s bloodied hand that he’d missed the smell of ash and gunpowder clinging to both his boys, and he held them a little tighter, offering up a brief prayer to the god of his mother’s people that it was just one of Leo’s experiments gone wrong, and not whatever horrid scenario the precise circle of missing flesh that had been carved from the back of Nico’s hand suggested. The cold knowledge that something far worse than an accident of discovery had occurred settled like a lead weight in the pit of Zo’s stomach, compounded by Leo’s reply, hissed almost too low to hear, and Nico’s answering flinch.

“Count Riario.” Leo’s mouth was twisted into something almost animal, anger and hatred tainting his usually milder disposition. Leo was intense, his anger fierce, but this was beyond anything Zo had seen before. Leo’s arms tightened around Nico, and Zo held them both even closer in turn, pressing another kiss to Nico’s hair before turning to do the same to Leo’s temple. Both of them relaxed slightly, but not as much as Zo would have liked.

“He took me off the street.” Nico murmured, and Zo and Leo exchanged looks, filled with a rush of protective anger for their youngest. “Asked me about why _maestro_ wanted the Jew’s body… He tortured me.” He confessed, in a rush. Leo had already heard this part, but it was news to Zo; he hissed in an indignant breath, and his body tensed beneath their weight as if he intended to get up right then to go find Riario and enact punishment upon him.

“He won’t touch you again, he won’t _fucking_ touch you, I won’t allow it.” He vowed, at Leo’s warning look. Nico glanced up at him, smile a little stronger this time, though there was still something dark in his eyes.

“I don’t think he’ll be coming back too soon, Zo.” He said, surprisingly placid. The smile that took his face a moment later was almost disturbingly out of place on their sweet Nico; something dark, twisted – almost a smirk. “I blew them up with _maestro_ ’s trunk.” He said, and Zo’s eyes widened a little, before he managed a smile that quickly turned into a smug, proud grin.

“That’s my boy!” He cheered, and leant in to press a kiss to Nico’s slightly flushed cheek. “I’m glad you’re okay, though.” He murmured, glancing at the teenager’s bandaged hand. “I can smell the gunpowder on you.” He added. “How close were you?” He asked, dreading the answer but needing to know, all the same, how close he’d come to losing Nico.

“Right next to it.” Nico confirmed. “But I knew it was coming, so I could take cover. Riario’s men didn’t.” He smiled, grimly. “I’m just sorry Riario managed to escape.”

“Fuck Riario, all I care about is that you’re safe, and here.” Zo said, squeezing them both tightly to emphasise his point. He dished out another round of kisses, too, ignoring the smell of smoke in Nico’s blonde curls, used to it from Leo. “Though I think it’s time for a bath, now.” He said, teasingly, after a moment. He glanced at Leo questioningly, who just shook his head. The studio, and the rooms behind and above it where they usually stayed, were in no state for them to return to them tonight, especially not with Nico finally beginning to relax again in their arms. Leo and Zo would have to go back in the morning to clean up the worst of the debris and shift the bodies. For now, though, Zo just beckoned Vanessa over and spoke to her in a low tone for a minute, before slipping out from under Leo and Nico and heaving them both to their feet. “C’mon, ‘Nessa’s gonna set us up a room upstairs.” He said, taking control of the situation since neither Leo nor Nico looked in any fit state to do so. “She’ll bring us up a bath, and some food and wine, even. It’ll be like a holiday.” He grinned, tucking one of his boys under each arm and nodding at Vanessa again before following her up the stairs in the back corner that led to the inn’s guest rooms. “We’ll even let you have the first go at the hot water, Nico.” He teased, earning a giggle from Vanessa and an eye roll from Nico himself; Vanessa let them into one of the rooms and Zo sent Leo and Nico over to the large, family sized bed in the corner to sit whilst he started a fire in the hearth to chase away the evening’s chill, and then went to help Vanessa bring in the enormous bathtub (“Forget taking turns, all four of us could fit in there at once – how about it, Nessa?”) and fill it with steaming water. Finally, Nessa brought up a plate piled high with bread, cheese, and cold meats, and wine to go along with it, before kissing Nico lightly on the forehead and squeezing his uninjured hand.

“It’s almost curfew, so once I’ve kicked out the stragglers I’ll be right down the corridor if you need me.” She promised, glancing from Nico, to Leo, to Zo, expression quietly empathetic, and then left, closing the door behind her. Zo handed Leo a plate of food – the _artista_ looked at it uncertainly before shrugging and beginning to stuff his face – and then tugged Nico to his feet, gently, drawing him over towards the bath.

“Come on then, love, let’s get you into the tub.” He murmured, tugging Nico’s shirt up over his head.

“I can undress myself, Zo.” Nico complained, though there was no venom in it, and he moved his hands and arms without being prompted.

“Yeah, well, maybe I like doing it.” Zo said, tone lighter than he felt, and leant down to press a kiss to Nico’s bare shoulder, before continuing into a crouch. “C’mon, feet up.” He said, and tugged Nico’s boots off one by one, before moving to his trousers.

“I’m sure I could manage this part myself.” Nico said, softly, but when Zo glanced up to gauge his reaction the teenager was smiling, ever so slightly. Zo, still on his knees, just winked and settled his hands on Nico’s now bare hips.

“But ain’t it nice having someone to look after you?” He said, jovially, and finally got to his feet. “Into the bath now, Nico, you’ll feel better in no time.”

“I doubt that.” Nico muttered, then yelped as Zo bodily lifted him into the tub.

“You too, Leo.” Zo tossed over his shoulder, keeping hold of Nico’s wrist so he didn’t get his bandages wet. “Keep that dry.” He said, firmly, before turning back to raise an eyebrow at Leo, who was looking a little startled, cheeks puffed out from where he’d been stuffing bread and cheese into his mouth. “Leo, c’mon, you’re filthy and the water won’t be hot forever.” Zo coaxed, holding out a hand; Leo obediently swallowed and trailed over.

“I had a bath yesterday.” He grumbled.

“And now you smell of smoke and gunpowder.” Zo countered, and began stripping his best friend. Leo rolled his eyes.

“I can _definitely_ undress myself.” He complained but, like Nico, allowed Zo to do it for him, simply moving his arms where he was bid.

“Now that I do know.” Zo said, with a wink, and ran his hand soothingly down Leo’s bare arm. “Just let me, alright?” He added, voice low, and Leo scrutinised him for a moment before his gaze went soft.

“Alright.” He agreed, and Zo grinned at him before kneeling to remove Leo’s shoes as he had Nico’s. “I’m putting myself in the bath though.” He added, carding a hand through Zo’s curls. “You’re not lugging me about like a sack of potatoes.”

“Nah, you weigh too much.” Zo teased, getting to his feet again and slipping his hands down the waistband of Leo’s trousers and underwear to push them down. “Much easier with Nico, he’s a slip of a thing.”

“Just last week you were complaining that I don’t eat enough, and that I’m too thin.” Leo murmured, lips quirking up in a smile. Zo smirked back.

“Yeah, but your ego makes up at least half your weight.” He teased, and Leo laughed and let Zo kiss him before stepping into the hot bath. Nico was curled up at one end, hugging his knees with the arm he was allowed to get wet, the other hanging over the side of the bath. Leo stretched his legs out a little, settling a foot on either side of Nico before lifting one to poke at his apprentice’s side until he coaxed a giggle out of the sombre teenager.

“That’s better.” He murmured, and took the cloth Zo handed him without complaint. Nico glanced over to take possession of the other, but Zo just smiled and shook his head, handing Nico a plate of food before rolling his sleeves up to the elbow before dipping the cloth in the water and shifting to rub at Nico’s back. “Not joining us, Zo?” Leo asked, lightly; Zo shook his head again, smile widening.

“Rather just enjoy the view.” He drawled, dipping his cloth again to rinse it before continuing to wash Nico’s back whilst the teenager poked at his food, tearing awkward chunks off the bread one handed and nibbling at them. With slow, methodical strokes, Zo cleaned all traces of soot and blood from the blonde’s pale skin, occasionally pressing tender kisses to the place he’d just washed. Leo gave himself a cursory scrub – he wasn’t nearly as filthy as Nico, and the smell of gunpowder would linger on him regardless of how many times he washed – before joining Zo in his ministrations, coaxing Nico into stretching his legs out a little so he could wash them, following Zo’s lead with the gentle, caring touches. Once Nico was as clean as he was going to get, (and perhaps more importantly had eaten enough to satisfy a mother henning Zo and put the remains to the side), Leo tugged his apprentice forward, into his lap, so there was room for Nico to tilt his head back, one of Leo’s hands curled around his neck in support, whilst Zo washed his hair. The look of pure adoration on Zo’s face as he carded his fingers gently through the teenager’s golden curls made Leo’s heart warm, and he rubbed his thumb tenderly along the side of Nico’s throat, enjoying the way it made a far more relaxed Nico languid and pliant in his arms.

“There we go, all clean.” He murmured, gently, when Zo had rinsed away the last of the soap, and Nico blinked open sleepy green eyes and leant forward instead, draping his arms around his _maestro’s_ shoulders and tucking his face into Leo’s neck, making a slightly pleased noise as he did so. Zo and Leo exchanged grateful smiles over the top of the teenager’s head, glad that Nico’s trembling had finally stopped.

“You wanna get out now, or stay in a bit longer?” Zo, having moved back around to the side of the bath, asked gently, running his hand slowly down the curve of Nico’s spine, and pressing a brief kiss to Leo’s shoulder. Nico muttered something into Leo’s neck, the words slurred with exhaustion, and Zo let out a soft laugh. “Bed it is then.” He teased, lightly, using the edge of the bath to push himself to his feet and stripping off his damp shirt (Leo ogled him shamelessly, and grinned at Zo’s answering wink) before leaning down and sliding his arms under Nico’s armpits to lift him out of the bath, Leo attempting to help as best he could, and Nico himself just about managing to lift each foot over the edge when he was bid. Zo stood the teenager in front of the fire and picked up one of the towels Vanessa had provided with the bath, gently patting a docile Nico dry. Leo clambered out of the bath under his own steam and grabbed the other towel to scrub himself dry before turning to apply it to Nico’s hair, squeezing as much of the water out of the damp, dark gold curls as he could. Nico turned slightly to smile at him, and Leo pressed a kiss to the boy’s nose.

“Almost done.” He promised, and Zo nodded from where he was patting the last of the water away from Nico’s feet. The heat of the fire helped, drying off what little water remained, and soon the two older men were drawing Nico over to the bed, settling him down on the mattress with one of them on either side of him. Nico rolled onto one side to face his _maestro_ and Zo tucked himself, firm and protective, behind the younger boy, one arm stretched along the pillow with both Nico and Leo’s heads resting on it, the other resting lightly on Nico’s bare hip, thumb drawing small, reassuring circles against his skin. Leo tugged the sheets up over the three of them, turning his head to press a kiss to Zo’s forearm beneath his head, then leaning forward to brush another tender one against Nico’s forehead. “We’ve got you.” He said, lacing his fingers with Zo’s on Nico’s hip, and with Nico’s own between their chests. “Get some sleep, Nico.”

“We’ll be here when you wake up.” Zo added, pressing his own kiss to Nico’s bare shoulder. Nico smiled, soft and sleepy, and obediently closed his eyes, squeezing Leo’s hand a little tighter with his own uninjured one. Leo and Zo exchanged one last look, aching with fondness for their young friend and knowing that they would do everything in their power to keep him from getting hurt again, but also keenly, sorely aware that they would be unable to protect him from everything, and then they, too, slept.


End file.
